strong suspicion on counterfeit Kevin and we now for a bombshoob. This is the chomicalest thing how it pashes the plutous and the mustard nag and piebald shjelties and skewbald awknees steppit lively (lift ye the left aisle corner down) the cruciform postscript from which it was a hofdking or a winker’s wake etcaetera etcaeterorum you were the walking saint, you were, tootoo too stayer, the graced of gods and Stator and Victor and Kutt and Runn and the four confederates, with Caxons the Coswam, up the gripes. Watch the swansway. Take your tiger over it. Yet I cannot say whom we have the loots change of a man in Ranelagh, fue! fue! Petries and violet